An End to the Confusion

The time has arrived to clear up the confusion over the grandchildren. It crops up from time to time, but when the last little pollywog was born two weeks ago, people started asking questions. Now, to be perfectly honest, I think that few people care about my grandchild conundrum. But for those of you who do, I would like to set the record straight. Additionally, three of them are old enough to be confused themselves. All the little kids are my grandchildren regardless of the truth of the matter. Calling them pollywogs evens the playing field.

The #1 pollywog is Bryan, the six-year-old son of my brother, Ted, and sister-in-law, Shelley. He has never met a costume or stuffed animal that he didn’t love and takes creative license to a whole new level. Last week he sent me a letter requesting that I go to Build-a-Bear and buy him a treat. He included ten pictures cut out of a circular with pinking shears of possible purchases and a $5 coupon.

Tyler Lee, the #2 pollywog, is the son of my daughter, Rachel, and son-in-law, BJ, and big brother to Wynn, pollywog #5. At first Tyler seemed to like his new bike much better than his new brother, but he is beginning to come around. Tyler can remember anything if a number is attached to it, and he finally has two loose teeth. Bryan has lost seven teeth, a feat which has caused Tyler to discuss his situation with his dentist.

Our son, Jeremy, and his wife, Jennifer, are Anna Lauren’s parents. As pollywog #3, she is a precocious three-year-old who tolerates ballet for her mother’s sake, counts in Spanish, and gives her dad a run for his money. Last week, she squealed “weeeeeee” for several miles on the two lane road to the lake. Finally, Tim, ears throbbing, asked her what in the world she was doing. “I’m trying to cry wee all the way home.”

Keegan is nine going on 16 and was most recently concerned about a date for the school dance. Last June, Keegan’s mom, Krissy, married our son, Evan, and Keegan, who sang at the wedding, became pollywog #4. Because she is older than the others, she couldn’t quite figure out how she got the #4 spot. Chronological order, my dear, chronological order.

Our sweet baby, Wynn Talcott, is #5. His first word will probably be “grandmother.”

I’m glad that I cleared up everything.

Oh, by the way, I also call them “Boo Pie” when the spirit moves me. However, even I can’t explain that one.